There's Demons Beneath the Roads We Walk
by Lady Hermione Margaery Holmes
Summary: There's demons beneath the roads we walk, and Sherlock's have been waiting for a very long time.
1. Traces of Magic

Chapter 1: Traces

The siren blared outside of the Tower of London as Sherlock Holmes and John Watson looked over the security tapes.

"How the hell has he managed to hack the LONDON TOWER system of all the things?!" Lestrade exclaimed.

"Well he is very good; you got to give him that," John replied.

Sherlock sat there, letting their meaningless chatter fade into the background as he set to examine the tape. Why would he do this, he thought, why would someone like Moriarty be so careless, he knew he was going to be caught red-handed, but why? Why would he want to be in jail? If he'd wanted the crown jewels they'd be his, if he'd wanted the gold they would all be gone, if he'd wanted the prisoners free they would be out on the streets right now, but Moriarty was the one caught with none of these accomplished. He'd wanted this, but why?

Sherlock turned his attention back to the screen, it was replaying the part again, he was just about to turn back and call it a day when the screen glitched, only for a second, but long enough for him to see the unmistakable figure. _No, no, it can't be, he's dead, he killed him,_ he thought. The screen glitched again, this time for longer, neither John or Lestrade noticed as they continued on.

"Get out, both of you," Sherlock said. Neither looked surprised as they're used to his rude remarks and a need to think in complete silence, silently, both of them made their way out of the door and Sherlock turned back to the screen.

It glitched a third time, but this time, as if it was aware of the absence of muggles, it stayed where it is. It showed to the same scene as the other one but this time, Jim Moriarty was replaced by the dark figure of Lord Voldemort holding a wand, shattering the glass with a spell, as alive as he looked when he was invading Hogwarts in all his glory.

He wondered if anyone is the wizarding world are aware of this, he had lost contact long ago, nearly everyone thinks he's dead, but then again, Sherlock mused, none of them has actually got the brains to check the muggle newspaper to know that Sherlock Holmes, the Ravenclaw mind reading genius, was alive and well.

He reached inside his coat and pulled out a slender piece of wood, despite the complete lack of use, it still looked as if though it was brought yesterday, still the same as the day his life changed forever.

He turned it in his hands, wondering when he was going to need it.

 _ **SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH**_

"Sherlock."

"Mmm?"

"Do you think…"

"Probably."

"Why?"

"Dunno."

"Why did you ask me and Greg to get out?"

"Mmm?"

"WHY did you ask me and Greg to get out Sherlock?"

"Oh, it's, er, nothing, just needs to think that's all."

I turned back, Sherlock was acting strangely today, not that he ever acts normal. He is unusually quiet and didn't even protest when Mrs Hudson threw his experiments out. It was, I suppose, Moriarty's reappearance and bizarre movements that shocked him, I was shocked myself. I mean, he is one of the most, if not THE most powerful criminal in the world, yet he got himself arrested. I'm sure Sherlock thought of the same thing, that Moriarty was playing another game, I hope not, last time he played one of his games I nearly got blown up.

On the other hand, I did notice something strange just before I left the room, the screen glitched, and momentarily, I could see a dark figure on the screen that certainly wasn't Moriarty.

I walked into my room and took out a bottle of ink and a quill from under the bed, it is time that I got in contact with my sister.


	2. The Black Mirror

**I don't own anything, all rights belong to JK Rowling, ACD, Mark Gatiss and regretfully, Steven Moffat. This is a disclaimer for the rest of this fic, bc I can't be bothered writing this every single time.**

 **Thank you for the favourites and the reviews; it prompted me to finish this earlier.**

 **Updates are (probably) every Sunday from now on.**

Chapter 2: The Black Mirror

Sherlock found Holmes Manor dull as usual, despite being a hundreds-year-old magical castle, there is just very little that is exciting about it. The paintings behave the same way and nothing is exciting enough about any of the magical contraptions. 

A house-elf out of the many hundreds in his house greeted him on his way in and set to inform his parents. It's been years since his last visited, he only ever sees his family on Christmas and that's usually at an expensive muggle diner on his brother's account, as he often needed to dash or receive an important call and then dash before the dinner is finished, leaving Sherlock to deal with his parents endless nagging. Sometimes he wonders if he does that on purpose before remembering that it is Mycroft who spends the most times with his parents.

"Sherlock!" His mother cried out, "Oh, you came to visit us."

"Um, err, I got something to ask you actually," Sherlock muttered, struggling to get himself out of his mother's tight grasp. "I need to speak with Hermione Granger, now."

"She's Weasley now dear, comes around every Monday for tea, poor sod, working herself harder than Merlin himself. Anyway, why can't you talk to her?"

"I basically lost contact with everyone, the Ministry moved recently now and I can't find it," Sherlock answered. 

"Alright, come around on Monday."

"No mother, it's urgent, I need to speak to her now."

"Alright then, come on."

She led him down the hall and into the maze of corridors inside this vast net that Sherlock once called home, through twists and turns they went, until finally, his mother stopped in front of a black door with a raven carved on to it. She took out her wand and tapped it against the door, it opened revealing a black mirror in the centre of the room. Sherlock didn't remember using this mirror that can communicate with anyone at anytime anywhere ever before, he only is aware of this through one of his many lessons about the family history, the Black Mirror, his teacher then called it before his departure to Hogwarts.

Sherlock's mother tapped her wand against the edge of the glass and muttered something under her breath, at once the smooth surface rippled like water, and a bunch of bushy hair that was unmistakably Hermione's appeared on the smooth black surface. Alarmed, she turned around and for a moment she appeared to look into a ghost's eyes, _if only she could see her face now,_ Sherlock mused, feeling a smirk creeping up his face, "Good afternoon, Mrs Weasley." He greeted, taking a mock bow towards the screen.

"You. You're dead, you killed yourself after the battle, jumped off a bridge, they even found a note, left in your old room." Hermione gasped.

"It was easy; I thought you of all people might know. A simple spell prevented me from dying, after which I hid out in the muggle world. Which the bunch of you idiots would've found me if you had the brains to check the muggle newspapers."

Hermione rolled her eyes and laughed, "Of course, I knew it. Of course, we can't compete with your massive intellect. What was Mycroft in on this?"

"As I regret to tell, you, yes."

"So go on, why now, what happened out there that is so important that you contacted me?"

Sherlock swallowed, "Do you know about the break-in in the Tower of London, Pentonville Prison and Bank of England a week ago?"

"There was a break-in in three of the most secure places in muggle England?" Hermione asked, aghast.

"Yeah well, that wasn't important. The thing was, I was called in to investigate when I found…"

"You are a detective now?"

Sherlock threw her a look that is all too familiar, and Hermione stopped and gestured for him to go on.

"So, as I was saying, it was all good and well until the screen glitched and this appeared." He held up a picture for her to see, it was the image of what looks to be like Voldemort, returned from the dead. 

It took a moment for Hermione to see clearly what was on the screen, when she did, she gasped rather loudly, "But we just had a series of murder that was done in the same style as when it was Voldemort's reign, all muggle-born, all killed with the killing curse. We just assumed that it was Neo Death Eaters going rogue again." 

"Well you assumed wrong, it seems that Voldemort is once again, regretfully, at large."

A knocking sound that issued from the door seems to grab the attention of Hermione, she shouted over her shoulder something before turning back, "I'm sorry Sherlock, I got to go, there's been a new murder and they think they're on to something. Can you drop by to the Ministry tomorrow?" 

"Of course." Sherlock nodded, "And I can't deal with..." His voice became softer, "Not after…you know…Victor."

Her eyes were full of understanding. "I know." She whispered before turning away, leaving him with an empty mirror to stare at.

 **I know, I know, the last bit may be translated as Hermione/Sherlock, but they knew each other long ago and they had a strong friendship. I have no intention for things to go further with him, so, there.**


	3. Contacts

Chapter 3: Contacts

Sherlock stayed at the Holmes Manor that night, his mother dotted on him throughout the night, bringing biscuits he choked down and then spit back up as soon as she left the room. He had a sleepless night, dreading what came tomorrow, Hermione out of all his old school mates are the most forgiving, the rest might just kick him right back out.

The next morning, Sherlock left before dawn, fully aware that the Ministry would not open until nine in the morning. He grabbed his coat on his way out, careful to leave a note to his parents that he's in the Ministry and will return to 221B tonight. The air is cool outside and a chilly mist set over the grass, which is littered with all sorts of exotic flower, to an ordinary man, the sight is something to behold, but Sherlock was no ordinary men, he didn't even bother to cast the garden with a second glance before disapparating into thin air.

He landed back in London, two streets away from King's Road, where the Ministry hides out nowadays. He quickly found what he was looking for, the small alleyway on the side of the road, a modern telephone booth sat in there. Sherlock reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of parchment, he dialled the number into the booth and a clear, female voice rang out, "Welcome to the Ministry of Magic, please state your name and your purpose."

Sherlock pursed for a moment before replying, "Sherlock Holmes, here to see the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

The right of the telephone booth spouted out a badge, which said, "Sherlock Holmes, here on a meeting with Hermione Granger." As he put the badge on, the left to the booth disappeared, reviling an elevator, he stepped in, watching as the elevator made its way underground, finally, a _ring_ signals that the lift has arrived. But as soon as he stepped out into the busy Atrium, a group of Aurors surrounded him, "Mr Holmes," The apparent leader of the group stood out, "you need to come with us."

 _ **SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH**_

Comparing to Sherlock, John had a relatively quiet day, he did the shopping, watched some crap telly and had the fridge cleaned out of all Sherlock's "experiments", namely, a jar of eyeballs, a platter of mouldy butter, a head and a brain. He nearly threw up twice during this, but since that prick wouldn't do it, John had to pull up all his soldier courage just to open the door to his flatmate's fridge.

It was nearly midnight when a loud _crack_ has woken John from his nice, violin-less dream. He threw on a dress robe wearily and opened the bedroom door.

His sister, Harriet Watson, was standing in the middle of his living room, fully decked in her Auror robes, soberer than he ever saw her.

"Ah, John, got your letter." She smiled.

"What ARE you doing here?" He fumed.

"As I said, I got your letter."

"It's bloody 1 in the morning!" He took a deep breath, "I said I'd come tomorrow."

"Yeah well, new development."

"And what is it that you need to come to your muggle brother in the middle of the night? Who is this about this time?"

"Your flatmate, Sherlock Holmes."

John stared before laughing, "Oh very funny Harry, now what is this really about? Did, what's her name? Clara? Left you?"

Harry's face remains unwavering, "Sherlock Holmes was arrested earlier today on charges of robbery and attempted murder. He demands to see you"

John stared and slowly, his face fell. "What?" was his only response after the long silence. "He doesn't know about the wizarding world. He's just a muggle, like me." He added, waiting for Harriet to say that this is just a joke. Unfortunately, that didn't happen, her face remained straight.

"He's a wizard." She deadpanned.

"Oh god, really?"

"Is that really all you can say?" She smirked, "Coming?"

John nodded and grabbed her arm.

 **A bit less than expected but what can I say, I'm a busy girl. This fic will be at least more than 20 chapters long I hope, if not longer, I honestly have no idea where this is taking me, so I'm going with the flow. Also please leave a comment on how I should write, my writing isn't the best and I'm only 13. Thanks.**

 **-EoR**


	4. Innocent or Guilty?

Chapter 4: Innocent or Guilty?

 _13 hours earlier_

"Mr Holmes, you need to come with us."

It seems to Sherlock that the wizarding world is already aware of his reappearance, and as they always do, got involved. They walked down the empty hallway, scattered with witches and wizards here and there, nearly all of them, he noticed, is giving him dirty looks and started whispering behind their hands as soon as they saw him. The grope of Aurors escorted him out of the Atrium and into one of the elevators off to the side.

For a world filled with magic, the elevators are surprisingly slow. Out of sheer boredom, as none of his escorts will ever tell him what was going on, Sherlock started to deduce the people surrounding him. The left one, he noticed, have three children and one of them just got their letter to Hogwarts, the one in front of him is a newbie, just started and nearly failed her potion test. He was about to go on to the one on his right when the elevator made a _ding_ noise and the annoyingly smooth female voice announced, "Level Two, Department of Magic Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters and the Wizengamot Administration Service." This appears to be their stop as the Aurors ushered him out of the elevator and down the empty corridor, they walked by Hermione's office, Sherlock was just about to open his mouth to ask what the hell was going to when a door opened to his right and he was roughly pushed through. The door behind him closed with a _click_ and he is left standing in the darkness.

 _ **SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH**_

The next two hours passed slowly, Sherlock is bored out his mind. He tried unlocking the door with magic, but apparently, you need to have some sort of identification for that. He was glad that they didn't take his wand, he charmed the walls so the voices came through, and he was somewhat shocked by what he heard.

"Did you hear, that Sherlock bloke, he tried to break in the, what do muggles call it, Tower of London?"

"Yeah, I heard that. I saw him this morning, trying to break into the Ministry. Thank Merlin that the Auror team was on stand-by"

"He tried to cover up his tracks by claiming You-Know-Who did it."

"What an idiot!"

"He contacted the Head of the DMLE, says he wants a meeting."

"Ha! Most likely to abduct her."

"He faked his death for years, lives in the muggle world as a private detective."

"Must not be a good one."

...

It's times like this he wondered why they ever defeated Riddle at all, Lord Voldemort is awfully clever for a wizard, with a lazy flick of his wand, Sherlock deactivated the charm on the wall. After he left the magical world to live a life in the muggle one, his magic has gone slack. Before that, he could easily listen to anyone within a 10-mile just with a simple spell. He flopped down on the floor, bored when the door opened with a click, an Auror stepped in, with a wave of her wand, she disarmed him and caught his wand easily. With another wave, magical restraint appeared on his arms. "Come on, the Head wants to see you." She said, and pull him with surprising strength. Sherlock observed her, "Your husband away for long?" he asked. The women looked offended and looked behind her to make sure that no one's listening, "How in the seven hells do about that you know that?! Are you an unregistered Legilimencist on top of being a liar and a thief?" She asked in a strained whisper.

"No," the corner of his mouth raised up to a smirk, "I simply observe."

 _ **SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH**_

"Why?" Hermione started.

"Why what?" Sherlock replied

She sighed, "Why you lied to me?"

"I never lied to you, look, if he can alter the records for me to see, he can alter it to make me look like I did it too."

"No, you're off your tits, Voldemort has been dead, he was killed, his body buried. I was there, I saw it happen. However, this record that Scotland Yard sent to us is more accurate, that's you." She pulled up a computer and showed him the screen, it was him, it looked real enough to fool anyone. But Sherlock Holmes is not just anyone, he noticed the colour of the pretender's shirt, just visible beneath the scarf. Purple, that day his shirt was black, the same one he's wearing now.

"See?" Hermione pointed at the screen.

"No, you look, see the colour of my shirt, it's purple, I wore black that day."

She laughed, a cold mirthless laugh, "Great," She scoffed, "we are basing your alibi on the colour of your shirt."

"Look, he's messing with your mind, that's what he wants, he wants to catch you off guard. Don't you SEE WHAT'S GOING ON!" Hermione looked taken back, she glances nervously towards the door and said in an undertone, "Then can you prove it?"

"John was there, he'll know," Sherlock said confidently. "Bit of a shock finding out though." He added as an afterthought.

"Fine," She said, waving for the Aurors to come in, "But John Watson is already familiar with the magical world."

 **Right, this chapter was fun to write, but no cliff-hangers though. I wasn't going to end it there but it seems like the perfect ending, so I did. Also, this is how the new Author's note gonna work now. (See below)**

 **Forecast for next chapter: John visits Sherlock in the Ministry of Magic, only to find he's not there.**

 **Warning: Possible Voldemort appearance, possible Harry appearance, possible blood, certain Kidnapped! Sherlock, certain Sherlock! Whump.**

 **Bonus: Did you spot the Game of Thrones reference I put in there? Comment below.**

 **Notes: As most of you will've noticed, I changed my name to Lady Hermione Margaery Holmes, but don't worry, I'm still me! ;)**

 **Thanks: All who read my story.**

 **-LHMH out**


	5. The Real Moriarty Part I

Chapter 5: The Real Moriarty Part I

John yawned, it's two am in the morning and they've been waiting over an hour for the official approval from the Minster himself to go through, he had not anticipated this but as Harry is only a low-ranking Auror, she can't give him access.

A young witch walked in just as John was dozing off, she stretched and gave them a slip of parchment with Minster Shacklebolt's signature on it.

"You can go through now," She yawned and walked away, muttering under her breath while taking out her wand to cast a quick Refreshment Spell on herself. John watched her with the slightest bit of jealousy, he once wished and wished he could do it too. Stealing Harry's wand and spell books on those summer vacations away from Beauxbatons, only to disappoint himself when nothing came out of the tip of the wand.

His sister gave him a gentle nudge and they stood up together, stumbling across the room, they walked down the corridor to a drowsy guard who looked at their papers and nodded. The guard lets them down an elevator, and into another corridor. Further and further underground they went until finally, they stopped in front of a heavy looking door. The middle-aged wizard took out his wand and twirled it, the door opens to reveal...

Nothing.

There was no one in the cell, the room was bare all except for the slim bed in the corner, a few torches on the wall and...and a white envelope, John picked it up and turned it over, he froze as he read what was written on the back of the envelope, a name that he has not heard for over a decade, but is unmistakably, _him._

 **Author's note: So sorry about this, I know I promised a full chapter with a Voldemort appearance, but school have started and I have been really really busy. So I spilt this chapter into two parts and the next part will be uploaded probably next week. See you then;).**


	6. Author's NoteApologies

**Sorry, everyone who's been reading my story, I just find I can't go on, I'm not good at doing a story with a plot because my profession is at angst/fluff one shots. Also it's because I have been super busy with school and everything else that have been going on lately and I kind of just lost the interest in writing this. It's been fun but I'm not going to continue, I will, however, continue writing fanfiction but it won't been muti-chapter stories like this one. If you're interested then go check it out!**

 **HMH out!**


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